clearing dead wood
by daffidil
Summary: Mycroft can't leave the sofa due to an injury, and Greg thinks up a way to keep him entertained... one-shot, established Mystrade


**another one inpsired by the wonderful JohnsArmyLady, so many thanks for her to get my bum in gear... :-)**

* * *

**Clearing dead wood**

Greg placed a mug with tea right next to his love, who was sitting on the sofa with his broken leg stretched out before him, resting on a pouf.

"There you go my darling, your cup of tea. Anything else you wanted?" Greg said as he took the place right next to Mycroft, and flicked the telly on with the remote.

"Yeah, for you not to watch anything too dreadful, thank you," Mycroft answered with a distinct grumpy undertone. He wasn't happy being unable to move like this, and the thought of not being able to get around, and having to ask Greg, or his housekeeper, for anything was getting to him. It had only been two days, and he would probably be able to start careful attempts to walk in another day or two, but this taking it easy lark was obviously not a place he wished to go to.

"Anything you'd like to see?" Greg tried to appease his injured partner, knowing that it wasn't going to be easy. Of the two, Mycroft was the carer, the one with infinite pools of patience, the one that would travel the earth to make sure that his Gregory would be happy, and although Greg would try, and really _really_ do his best, he would get bored after a while and want to get on with his things…

"I don't mind, as long as it isn't one of those popular culture things you like to stare at…" Mycroft grumbled.

Greg flicked through the channels and came across just that, programme after programme, hearing Mycroft sigh each time.

"Film then? A rom-com? Jane Eyre? I know you have a thing for Mr Rochester..." looking sideways he noticed Mycroft flush a little, and shake his head, so he carried on, "One of those French things that you like to see? Something with Catherine Deneuve? Italian? That Dolce Vita film?" Greg knew he was on a winner with that last one, knowing that it was one of the very few dvd's that Mycroft actually owned.

"Hmm... Maybe…"

"Okay, let me just get that ready for you, and I'll pour myself a beer, I'll need it to get through… Wine for you? Oh no, painkillers…Sorry…" Greg got off the sofa, handed the dvd player's remote control and found the box amongst all of his, slipped the disc into the machine and went off to the kitchen to get himself a beer and a bowl with crisps, knowing they would be mainly for himself, as Mycroft detested the things. He found some fruit biscuits for him instead. Back in the living room he snuggled up next to a now slightly less grumpy partner, and waited for the beginning credits to come on.

"It's nice to have you so ready to pound on," Greg purred, as he nibbled Mycroft's ear, then planting a sloppy kiss in his neck. He heard a tiny groan escape his prey, and he smiled, and settled against his body, intent on watching the film all the way through this time.

* * *

_Two days earlier_

The sounds of steady chopping and sawing were interrupted by the noise of a chainsaw that disturbed the peacefulness of the landscape. The following creaking and snapping of branches sounded pretty disturbing, and men shouting in the woodland was even less agreeable, but it had to be done, and Mycroft Holmes decided he would stay well clear of it. The annual clearing of the woodland on the estate was something he was intrigued by, had been since he was a child, but something that he never would participate in, and was glad his help wasn't ever really required. Gregory on the other hand seemed to relish the chance to get his hands dirty (his beautiful, strong hands…), so when he had offered last year to help out, and Simon and Jake, the gardening staff, seemed fine with it, he once again joined them and Peter, a mate of Simon's from the village, to spend two days clearing dead wood from the fir trees, the beech trees and various others that either had perished in time, giving both Simon's cottage and the Manor plenty of wood to burn over the winter, keeping both places warm.

It had been a few hours since Greg had set off, and although there was a chill in the air, he wasn't feeling much of it, as pearls of sweat trickled down his back right into his briefs, adding to the dampness of his undergarments in general. He wiped some sweat off his forehead and looked at the work he'd been doing, alongside Jake, who was busy chopping a fairly chunky oak tree trunk into portable chunks. He felt very chuffed that they'd managed to already get a pile of wood on the trailer behind the tractor, and looked around for the other trunks that were still lying on the woodland floor. There was still plenty to keep them going until at least tomorrow – the guys might have to carry on during the week by themselves, and he felt somehow sad that he'd be back in London, sat behind is desk, or chasing the streets looking for mad criminals or discovering gruesome scenes he rather didn't… Suddenly his job seemed pretty dull… Too cushy…

Just as he was ready to get back into helping Jake saw an old oak tree into lots of bits he noticed two figures appear in the distance. A short person and a pretty tall one. The short person was carrying two thermos flasks with handles, a load of mugs and some folding chairs over her shoulder and , and the tall person carried a basket, as well as some more chairs. Annika, the home help for Mycroft's mother, and Mycroft himself… His heart skipped a beat when he realised it was his partner, and a smile appeared on his face. And a bit of a worrying feeling in his stomach, but he ignored that one.

"Break time then," Jake spoke to Greg when he noticed the two figures as well, and a smile emerged on his face too, but Greg was pretty sure that wasn't for Mycroft. He'd noticed Annika get very red in the face whenever Jake was mentioned, during the past few visits to the house, and he had a sneaky feeling that the two of them had a little thing on the go.

They yelled at the other two guys that they could stop for a bit for coffee and found a spot in the clearing a few yards away where a bench had been put, years ago by the look of the moss growing on it.

When Annika and Mycroft arrived, they found the bench a handy place to get the coffees and teas shared out, and Mycroft opened the basket to reveal slices of cake in a plastic container. There was also milk and sugar for those who wished that in their drinks.

"Ah, that's a sight for sore eyes," Simon declared, winking at Mycroft, then looking at Greg. Both grinned a little uneasy, but Mycroft carried on sharing out the cake and offering the milk and sugar cubes as if he hadn't heard.

"That is a lot of work done already!" Annika said, looking around and seeing the many logs on the trailer. "You guys have been hard at it?"

Jake burst out laughing, then looked at the other guys and placed a hand on Annika's arm. "Yeah, we have, but you can massage me tonight if you wish, my poor muscles have been suffering…"

Lots of whooping followed, and Annika blushed to a very deep maroon.

Mycroft looked at Greg, and they shared a quick knowing smile. Greg whispered something, while raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"You doing some massaging too, Master 'Olmes?" Simon asked, watching the private interactions between the son of his boss and the Detective Inspector from Scotland Yard. Greg had sensed a kind of dismissive tone in his talking whenever he was addressed with Mycroft around and it hadn't ceased here either. He was aware of what had happened in the past, but that had been twentyfive year previous*, surely that wasn't still affecting the way Mycroft's head gardener was dealing with him, surely? Apparently it was, and he noticed Mycroft's unease, saw that Peter, Simon's friend, laughed in derision, and he decided to take his partner for a walk, clear the air a bit.

"Just need to speak to him for a minute," Greg explained to Annika, who smiled back at them and the two men walked off along the path further into the woodland.

"Don't let him get to you, My, he's just being a prick…" Greg said once they were out of earshot. He took Mycroft's hand and lifted it up for a quick kiss.

"I know, it's just that… Never mind… You having a good time out here then?" Mycroft had slipped an arm around Greg's waist when Greg had put an arm around his shoulder, and he enjoyed the intimacy of being so close to his love.

"Like my new Rugged Look?" Greg smiled, happy to leave the tension of earlier behind them.

"Rather… You can be a forester more often, Gregory Lestrade…Maybe a career change?" Mycroft giggled.

"It's an idea… Maybe when we move into the house?"

"Hmm… Ooh, I like that notion…"

"Only, we'd have to get rid of Simon, obviously… We'll promote Jake to Head, then he and Annika can move into the cottage, and we'll live happy ever after…"

"Oh, Gregory, what a great…" which was as far as he got, when Mycroft stepped onto a slippery piece of wood, lost his balance, put his foot down wrong, and tumbled down the fifteen foot ditch that ran along the path, which was - luckily for Mycroft - dry and filled with leaves. Almost pulling Gregory along with him.

"Mycroft, what the fuck…?" Greg shouted when he got his head around what just happened. Looking down the ditch he saw Mycroft sprawled in a position that didn't look all too clever. The urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation was quickly diminished when he realised that Mycroft was in pain down there. "Are you okay? Can you move your limbs?"

Groaning sounded from under him, and a weak voice answered: "My leg, Gregory, I think it's broken…"

"Okay, darling, don't move, I'll go and get some help…"

Mycroft nodded his head while simultaneously pulling a face that gave away the pain he was in. He saw Greg run away and tried his best to count down five minutes, hoping he didn't have to go all the way to zero before help arrived. In what form, anyway, he thought. Would he have to be lifted out? How on earth would that be achieved? And the embarrassment it would cause… Never mind what field day his mother would have, let alone Sherlock… God… What a day… Why wasn't he spared this, in god's name… He would have to take time off from work, which would be so very inconvenient… He tried to move a little, just to make sure that he couldn't, that he wasn't just being a wimp. He wasn't… That was really very excruciatingly painful…

After what seemed like forever, Greg was back, with Annika, who had a first aid certificate, and Jake who came along just in case Greg needed help lifting him out.

"There's an ambulance on the way, My, try to keep still," Greg and Annika had made their way down to where he was.

"Is it okay if I have a quick look, Mr Holmes? Just, if there's anything bad like, swelling or bones sticking out...'

"Eew, Annika," Jake groaned above them.

"It can happen, I saw this man once…"

"Thanks, darling, I think I'm in enough discomfort already… You do what you need to do," Mycroft said, and grinned at the girl.

"Oh, sorry… I'll just look, shall I?" Annika said and pulled the leg of the trouser up a little. No blood, and no bones… Good…Then she touched the part that looked a bit swollen and Greg never thought he heard such a heartfelt yelp. "Sorry," Annika repeated. "Needed to make sure…"

"I get that. Just, don't ever do that again…" Mycroft panted in agony.

A while later they heard an ambulance manoeuvring, very slowly up the narrow lane, shown in by Simon, until it arrived at the scene of the incident. The paramedics had a quick look, repeated some of the things that Annika did, resulting in a similar outburst of distress in Mycroft, and he was loaded carefully onto a stretcher, strapped in and lifted out of the ditch, with Jake helping out with the tricky parts.

Greg made a move to get into the ambulance, but was stopped by one of the paramedics.

"Relatives only, I'm afraid," she snapped.

"He is as much as…" Annika snapped back.

"I'm his partner," Greg offered the explanation.

"Really? You?" the woman looked Greg up and down in surprise, disappointment even, then pulled her shoulders up, "They come in all sorts these day, I suppose." She nodded to the seat in the back, reserved for relatives and Greg hopped in, saying goodbye to Annika and Jake.

* * *

Mycroft felt the steady movement of a sleeping Gregory against his body, head on his shoulder, quiet snoring, when the end credits finished. Once again he'd managed to miss the last half of the film, and Mycroft smiled, moved his hand so that he could stroke Greg's face. The stubble felt fairly enticing, suddenly, after having watched a film that got his pulse racing, and he noticed Greg had opened his eyes slightly, and a small smile appeared on his face.

"Have I missed it again…?" Greg croaked, stretching out but not moving away from the body that he had been so nicely leaning against just now.

"Yup… You are such a savage sometimes, Gregory… It's a good thing you have other qualities…" Mycroft purred.

"Ooh… is someone getting a little bit excited here?" Greg smiled. "Shame you can't really do anything right now, isn't it…"

"No, but you can…" Mycroft chortled, eyebrows wiggling.

"Ow, you naughty, naughty man…" Greg grinned, and set to making sure his partner would go to bed with a smile on his face… He never thought that the smell of plaster would make him feel aroused like that.

"You have just the right medicine for an ailing man like me... Happy people- ooh, Gregory, careful- happy people heal faster, I've been told by John Watson...

"Best keep you in a permanent state of bliss then, won't I?" Gregory smiled and moved to kiss Mycroft, who couldn't agree with him more...

* * *

* see chapters 8 & 9 of The Premier League, my big Mystrade story...


End file.
